Today’s Wall St. Journal has a piece on Simon & Schuster’s newest marketing strategy — an Internet book channel, Bookvideos.tv, to be hosted on YouTube and other sites, on which authors will talk for two minutes (“about as long as you can watch something on your desktop before your boss catches you,” says the chief executive of the corporation producing the videos) about their lives, how they became writers, and other such behind-the-scenes topics. The channel will focus on only Simon & Schuster authors, though the company seems open to expanding in whatever direction viewers take the most interest.
The channel will launch next month and has committed to 40 author videos, with featured authors including bestselling authors from Sandra Brown and Mary Higgins Clark to Ursula Hegi and Marianne Wiggins. You can check out the videos here as well as on the Simon & Schuster web site.
Today’s New York Times features an article about the losses of book reviewers at newspapers across the country, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution being the latest casualty (it recently eliminated its book editor position). The LA Times and San Francisco Chronicle have also recently reduced the amount of ink devoted to books … and all you local readers of the Union-Tribune‘s already tiny book section may have noticed that your favorite freelance reviewers aren’t getting as many gigs as they used to.
While I agree that this trend is indeed “yet one more nail in the coffin of literary culture,” I also think blogs are fantastic, and that for writers, these bloggers are our friends — our very good friends. They can get an author quite a bit of mileage for many reasons, among them the fact that many emerging writers don’t get reviewed by major newspapers at all, as well as the fact that bloggers have a reach that goes well beyond those who buy books based on reviews alone. And, as the Times points out, “while authors and publishers may want long and considered responses to their work, sometimes what they most need is attention.”
As disheartening as it is to read about decreasing coverage of the literary arts, this debate is entertaining to read, from blogger Edward Champion, who told the Times that “literary blogs responded to the ‘often stodgy and pretentious tone’ of traditional reviews” to Richard Ford, who, though he’s never read a literary blog, said, “Newspapers, by having institutional backing, have a responsible relationship not only to their publisher but to their readership…in a way that some guy sitting in his basement in Terre Haute maybe doesn’t.”
And if you visit Champion’s blog, on which he has posted a photo of a basement in Terre Haute, you’ll see that the debate continues…
Write what you love. Follow your passions. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
These are among the insights and inspiration at one of the fiction panels at this weekend’s Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, the country’s largest celebration of the written word. The 12th annual festival was held at UCLA and drew upwards of 130,000 word lovers (along with their children and pets).
The advice above comes from Chris Bohjalian and Peter Orner, from the panel Fiction: Jumping Off the Page, which also featured Marianne Wiggins and Gary Shteyngart. What was fun about this panel, for me, was hearing about the processes of these writers: that Wiggins and Orner both write in longhand; that Wiggins takes two to three years to think out a novel but writes only one draft; that Bohjalian writes eight, nine, and ten drafts of each book. It was heartening to learn that even a writer like Bohjalian has written novels he will never publish; that it took Orner twelve years to write his novel The Second Coming of Mavala Shikongo; that, in Orner’s words, “first and last sentences are a constant hell.” For writers who make it look easy, it’s comforting to know that for even these authors, writing is anything but.
It was impossible to sit in on all 97 of the panels, of course, but we did our best to visit as many of the 300 exhibitor booths as we could, seeing everything from literary magazines to small presses, as well as testing out the Sony Reader and checking out the new MySpace for literary types: TheYack.com.
Best of all, San Diego Writers, Ink got us there and back on its inaugural trip to the festival, complete with open mic readings and plenty of coffee. Mark your calendars for next year; I already have.
At the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books this weekend, we stopped by the Google exhibit, which was promoting its Authors@Google series. Over the past year, Google has talked with myriad authors — from Hillary Clinton to Martin Amis — and has posted the videos online. Google interviews authors at its Mountain View headquarters as well as its offices in New York, Santa Monica, Ann Arbor, London, and Dublin. Most interviews are up to an hour long — a nice treat for anyone who doesn’t catch his or her favorite author on the book tour. Best of all, one of the Google reps mentioned that Google will be expanding the program, continuing to interview high-profile writers while reaching out to the small presses as well.
You can check out the series at Google, or visit YouTube for the archives. Enjoy.
I got such a kick out of this blog about the language and style choices of Dan Brown in The Da Vinci Code. It’s a very amusing look at precisely what is wrong with the writing in the book — things that for karmic reasons I don’t like to point out myself (but am very glad someone else has).
Remember this: almost as much can be learned by looking at bad writing (i.e., what not to do) as by reading all the great stuff. The trick, of course, is knowing the difference.
San Francisco Chronicle book editor Oscar Villalon wrote a fantastic article on the seemingly neverending debate on truth (or lack thereof) in nonfiction. Inspired by a recent article in The New Republic calling David Sedaris to task for sprinkling bits of fiction into his “nonfiction” essays (rather ironic, if you think about the Stephen Glass debacle, but that’s another story), Villalon questions why we readers put up with fictionalized versions of memoir that insist on being represented as nonfiction. It’s a question well worth asking — and worth answering — and yet all that seems to happen is that writers keep fictionalizing their nonfiction and continue calling it nonfiction.
Villalon brings up the point that nonfiction sells better than fiction, as well as the even better point that it’s a whole lot easier if a writer allows him- or herself to make up events or details rather than toil away to make a piece work using the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But this only takes away from those wonderful nonfiction writers (Adrian Nicole LeBlanc, Mark Kramer, Tracy Kidder, to name a few) whose words you can count on to be not only true but meticulously so.
When I’m in class talking about memoir or creative nonfiction, I make a huge point of emphasizing the importance of truth, down to the tiniest detail. (My students sometimes look at me as if to say, “Duh.”) But clearly some of our most prolific writers are not getting the idea. As Villalon points out, Sedaris told The New Republic that Angela’s Ashes could’ve been fiction and he’d have liked it just as much — yet isn’t some of the beauty and horror of it due to the fact that it’s a true story? Villalon also notes that Augusten Burroughs’ new book comes with a disclaimer stating that his nonfiction book is not entirely true — so why label it nonfiction at all?
Villalon writes, “Fiction is a lie that tells the truth.” And ultimately, he believes, “there’s no excuse for calling a work containing chunks of fiction nonfiction…No excuse, none.” If only every writer — and reader — believed the same thing.
I’ve noticed in our Metro classes a lot of interest in writing young adult fiction — and those of you who are working on such projects will enjoy this Wall Street Journal article (subscription required), “Teen Books Are Hot Sellers, But Formula Isn’t Simple.”
The story details Emmy-winning television writer Larry Doyle’s quest to find a home for his novel, which his agent pitched to editors of both adult and young adult books. With bookstore sales declining, publishers are looking at the young adult market as a potential to increase overall sales. However, while the teenage audience is easy to reach, thanks in large part to their love of the Internet, choosing whether and how to label a book for adults or young adults remains a challenge.
The WSJ reports that Doyle’s book was ultimately sold as an adult title, a choice the author says he’s happy with. After all, it’s easier to get teens to read adult books than vice versa (the article points to examples such as Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and Curtis Sittenfeld’s Prep). But for those who do want to target the young adult market, remember these two words: Harry Potter.
Today’s New York Times has an interesting feature on the pre-publication book tour and its effectiveness in book sales, particularly for first-time authors.
The industry credits Morgan Entrekin, the publisher of Grove/Atlantic, with the invention of the pre-publication book tour when his company published “Cold Mountain,” preceded by a pre-publication tour that likely had a lot to do with the book becoming a best-seller. And now, as this article explains, many publishers, especially the more independent presses, are hoping to generate the same buzz for new authors.
The Times quotes weary British author Steven Hall, recently in the U.S. for a pre-pub tour for his novel, The Raw Shark Texts, as saying, “You take a writer, the kind of person who wants to sit on his own for three years at a time, and then make them go to a bunch of dinner parties.” But as every author knows, writing today is as much about selling as it is about telling good story.
For any of you who may feel as though you’re too old to become a successul writer, check out this AP story about a man who began writing his first book at age 93 and now, at age 96, is a published author.
Harry Bernstein’s memoir, The Invisible Wall, about his childhood in northern England, grew out of the loneliness he encountered after the death of his wife. As he says in the article, “You know when you get into your 90s like I am, there’s nowhere else to think except the past. There’s no future to think about. There’s very little present…So you think of the past.”
But now he has quite a lot of future to think about. A Random House editor in London picked up his book and couldn’t put it down, and now, in addition to being published in England and Sweden, it will be released in Germany, Italy, Finland, and Norway. Bernstein is already at work on a second book, slated to be published in the U.S. by Ballantine.
I think all writers can learn a little from Bernstein’s wisdom. He reports that he writes when inspired rather than forcing deadlines, and he also says, “I’m not satisfied until I finish what I start. And I will not be satisfied until I start something new.”
…Lionel Shriver and the Orange Prize: just to follow up on my last post, check out today’s New York Times feature on Lionel Shriver…and you can also check out this year’s Orange Prize nominees, which have just been announced.
I’m very happy to see that Lionel Shriver’s new book, The Post-Birthday World, is now on bookshelves and and receiving rave reviews.
But the literary life hasn’t always been this smooth for Shriver — after a long 20 years and no fewer than six novels, she told the BBC she was about to give up on writing when she won the 2005 Orange Prize for her novel We Need to Talk About Kevin.
We Need to Talk About Kevin is one of those books I always recommend to anyone who will listen — for its language, story, and the fearless way Shriver tackles our society’s biggest taboos. But I also recommend it to writers for inspiration. The manuscript was rejected first by Shriver’s own agent, then by 20 more — and after that was rejected by 30 publishers. But Shriver persisted (in an interview with the BBC, she talks about the unpopular subject matter of the book), and the book was eventually published by Counterpoint in 2003. “One of the things that is salutary about the publishing history of this book is that it’s a real word-of-mouth book,” Shriver told the BBC. “It was readers who got me here. Single, individual readers who bought the book and told their friends.”
Writers often ask me whether they should write for an audience or for themselves. My answer has always been that they should write for themselves first, and consider audience later. But perhaps writers shouldn’t concern themselves with audience at all, and stay focused on their stories, their characters, and their messages instead. Lionel Shriver has proven that sometimes it’s the audience that needs to catch up with the writer — and that it’s well worth the wait.
The New York Times ran a story last week on the Bellevue Literary Press, which will publish its first title next month. The article calls attention to Bellevue Hospital’s former reputation as a psych ward for the “criminally deranged,” which indeed sounds tough to overcome. Yet neither authors nor publishers seem worried about the past.
Bellevue Literary Press grew out of the success of the Bellevue Literary Review, founded in 2000 and described by the Washington Post as “a journal of humanity and human experience — a well-regarded magazine featuring fiction, nonfiction and poetry by Bellevue’s doctors and well-established writers.”
Yet, like most small presses, Bellevue Literary Press is all about the love, not the money. Financed by private donors, the imprint’s first four titles are medical or scientific books written for a general audience, and editorial director Erika Goldman told the Times that authors would be paid advances in the $5,000 range, adding, “We’re in it for love and art.”
Which sounds perfectly sane to me.
Continuing a wonderful trend of publishing literary work among hard news and features, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer is starting a writers-in-residence program in which it will publish new, unpublished work by some of the Northwest’s best-known authors.
The program launches next Friday with National Book Award winner Pete Dexter. A list of all twelve authors — including Sherman Alexie, Tom Robbins, and Ann Rule — and their bios is on the P-I web site.
Post-Intelligencer managing editor David McCumber ran a similar program when he was at the San Francisco Examiner, and the P-I joins other newspapers — including the New York Times and LA Times, which publish fiction in their Sunday magazines, and the Washington Post, whose Chapter One publishes the first chapters of new books — in highlighting literary work. Let’s hope this trend continues to grow and to bring more authors to larger audiences.
Lemn Sissay‘s article in today’s Guardian revealed rather shocking news about literary prizes (the big ones), pointing out that the nominees are not simply authors whose books their publishers admire but authors whose publishing contracts guarantee them prize nominations. And if this weren’t enough, Sissay also notes that this isn’t exactly breaking news. The article quotes Francis Bickmore, an editor at Canongate Books, as saying, “It’s standard for the big hitters and big prizes” (though Bickmore adds that he isn’t aware that Canongate has any such contracts). At any rate, this is not good news for writers who don’t realize that these prizes are something to negotiate before their books come out.
As a judge for the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize for Fiction, Sissay was unaware that this sort of agreement exists and believes most other prize judges are as well. Though literary agents, too, are in on the secret (“It’s a way of guaranteeing press coverage,” literary agent Emily Hayward told Sissay), most writers are probably not. It may make writers who didn’t make the short lists feel a little better — or not — but it will definitely have them thinking twice about their next contract.
Last week in a workshop, I asked writers to make a list of excuses they use not to write. (These were long and very creative.) Then I read them a passage from Natalie Goldberg‘s Writing Down the Bones and posed her question: “Why Do I Write?” (They later compared their two lists, discovering that the lists of excuses were longer than the lists of reasons they write.)
It was deja vu all over again when I read Sunday’s Los Angeles Times, in which the playwright Greg Kotis begins an article on writing with a “short list” of excuses he has to avoid writing (“do the dishes; do laundry; do the Internet (Playbill.com, the Drudge Report); read the paper; install shelves; help my kids with their homework; follow the Red Sox; go to the gym; listen to podcasts (“This American Life,” “Meet the Press”); call my friends to talk about not writing; write lists”). His essay also quotes many of Goldberg’s words of wisdom from Writing Down the Bones.
Kotis’s point, though, offers insight into why our lists of excuses to write are longer than our reasons to write: perhaps we worry too much about writing bad stuff. Kotis, therefore, writes about “embrac[ing] the badness,” concluding that “the exhilaration of abandoning the effort to write well â€” sort of like the fun in destroying a sandcastle you’ve just made â€” leads to the desired oblivion. Eventually, the writing stops being strictly bad. It starts keeping to its own rhythms and rules and finally begins to feel sort of OK.”
He’s right; we need to get rid of our self-editors, at least initially, so we can find the “creative voice” that Goldberg writes about. And sometimes it feels even better than OK.